


You've got a pretty kinda dirty face

by cellis3



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, and minor friend angst but if u blink u miss it, and tea, bc they're cuties and its october, like matt hitt is in this, loads of blushing, super self indulgent, there's a library involved, this is 12k ?? what the frick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:31:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellis3/pseuds/cellis3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Self-indulgent high school AU where Harry jogs the track at Louis' school ever morning.</p><p>--</p><p>“Enjoying the view?” the sweaty boy asks shakily, still catching his breathe. Wow, he really needs to stop panting before Louis rips his shirt off and – </p><p>“Just wondering why anyone in their right mind would be out in shorts right now running laps through the fog. My butt’s freezing just sitting here mate.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've got a pretty kinda dirty face

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic I've ever posted so keep that in mind please. It's un-beta'd and set in England, but I'm shit with school systems so for the sake of making sense, they're all 17 and in their last year of high school.  
> Also verb tense might be wonky; I tried to fix it up as much as possible, but might've missed a bit.
> 
> Title from the 1975 "Robbers" because it's the best and they're the best and the last line is super relevant. 
> 
> I don't own One Direction or any of the boys sadly.
> 
> I hope you enjoy my weak attempt at fiction :))

It’s officially Autumn, meaning crispy leaves covering the streets and sidewalks, layering sweaters under jackets for warmth, and – best of all – weather just cool enough to have a viable excuse to not do your hair in the morning.

 

On his way out of the house, Louis grabs his soft grey beanie off the coat rack, shoving his phone and wallet into his coat pockets.

 

“Ok! I’m leaving now!” he shouts loud enough for his voice to travel down the hall to the kitchen where his mum and sisters sat eating breakfast. He’s leaving for school before the rest of them because he has to finish up that paper on the Opium War before History at 8:30 and if there was ever a time in all his high school years to actually finish a paper on time, it was going to be now.

 

It’s October of his last year of high school. Louis swears it was just yesterday he came home from Amsterdam with Zayn after spending his two summer months half drunk and sun kissed. His bag wasn’t even fully unpacked yet, sitting on the floor near his closet as a constant reminder of his adventures.

 

Shaking his head, Louis grabs his thermos full of tea off the kitchen bench. He’ll never get this paper done if he keeps thinking about the rough sand of the Greek beaches between his toes or the taste of a German pint after a currywurst or the smell of –

 

Stop it.

 

No reminiscing.

 

It’s 6:53, leaving him just over an hour to get to school and make the finishing touches on his paper before printing it and getting to class on time.

 

Swinging the door open, Louis throws his bag over his back and steps outside into the cool October air – which feels more like December with how cold it is. What the hell? He can see his breathe! Maybe October mornings are always like this? Louis can’t remember the last time he’d left the house before 8 let alone been up before his mum so who knows.

 

It’s his last year, though and goddamn it he’s going to be serious about his studies.

 

If it _kills_ him.

 

Wrapping his arms around the thermos to keep his palms warm, the boy keeps a brisk pace, his scuffed Vans crushing the leaves blanketing the sidewalk. It’s not too long of a walk to school, but Louis still shoves his headphones in his ears, letting the heavy opening bass of a Vaccines song perk him up.

 

Nothing is going to get in his way of succeeding this semester. Not the teachers, not his social life, and definitely not himself.

 

Ha. Social life. The one that has been kind of non-existent since returning from his European escapades. Louis brushes the lack of party invites as back-to-school blues and not as the fact that he hadn’t talked to Niall or Liam all summer. Zayn had kept in touch as far as he knew, sending them pictures and funny stories whenever they had service.

To be honest, Louis had just been busy. Too many things to see, too many people to kiss or be kissed by, and way too much food and alcohol to ingest. Yeah, ok, he was kind of a shitty friend over the summer, but they’d forgive him. They had to.

 

Anyways, they’d greeted him and Zayn with opening arms on the first day so it couldn’t be that bad. The past month had just been busy for everyone. Especially Louis who was now actually studying and completing homework the day it was assigned. Amazing.

 

Coming up to campus, Louis finishes the dregs of his tea – which has now gone a bit too cold for his liking – and shoves the thermos into his bag. The school grounds are dead this early in the morning, the clouds hiding any sign of sunrise, the wind tossing leaves in the air like rice at a wedding.

 

There are only a few cars in the parking lot and they most likely all belonged to teachers. Perfect. Just the silence Louis needs to finish the History paper. Sighing to himself, he rounds the corner of the school to where the football field sits.

 

Right as he’s about to open the side doors, a bit of movement catches the corner of his eye. Having yet to see another living being aside from his family that morning, Louis looks over to the field to see what it is.

 

As his eyes scan the grass, he sees a lone figure that seems to be jogging the track. Louis can’t see it very clearly as he doesn’t have his glasses on and there’s a light fog covering the field, so he decides to venture closer – just to look.

 

Who’d be dumb enough to go jogging in this weather so early? He has to check it out. He _is_ a senior after all. Louis has to protect his school. And stuff.

 

Pulling out his headphones and shoving them back into his pocket, Louis walks silently through the fog. Nearing the bleachers that surrounded the track, Louis could see that is was a boy, around his age, dressed all in black – black long-sleeved shirt, black trainers, black shorts, black… headband?

 

Louis peers closer, squinting his eyes. Yeah, definitely a headband.

 

The runner has headphones in and is breathing heavily, almost panting from the workout. His skin seems quite tanned for England in October, Louis muses as he watches the boy’s thighs flex and extend with each step. Looking at his face, Louis sees that the boy’s eyebrows are furrowed, seeming deeply concentrated on the task at hand.

 

Feeling like a Class A creep watching the boy from behind the bleachers, Louis rounds the metal structure and sits down on the lowest bench next to what he guesses is the jogger’s black duffel bag.

 

Louis spots some books along with a few bottles of water before his eyes are once again on the running boy.

 

Man, he has a nice back. Oh, wow, shoulder blades. Louis watches the muscles in the boy’s back expand and shift as he completes another lap around the track, heading back toward the bleachers.

 

Heading back toward the bleachers. Oh. What is he going to say? “You have really nice legs, mate”? 7 am is definitely too early to think about attractive sweaty boys in black.

 

Pulling out his phone, Louis opens up his Instagram, scrolling through his feed in an attempt to seem nonchalant and for sure not like he was staring at the boy who is now walking toward him.

 

He only lifts his head once he hears someone clear their throat to his left and when he does he wished he had decided to do that swooshy thing with his hair that morning because wow he is even better looking up close.

 

From his position on the bench, Louis is looking up at the boy; his head somewhere near the tall boy’s hipbone. The black shirt clings to his torso, leaving nothing to the imagination (although Louis could imagine oh yes he could), his eyes travelling up the body in front of him, finally getting a good look at the boy’s face.

 

Thank the lord that it’s cold enough that his cheeks are already rosy because Louis’ a known blusher and this would definitely be a tomato face moment.

 

The boy has a jaw sculpted by the gods, leading to a head full of sweaty curls shoved under a black headband, a few falling out to stick to his forehead. His nose is sloped to perfection leading down to a defined cupid’s bow and full lips stretched open as he catches his breathe. Finally Louis looks up into his eyes, his wide green eyes that seem to hold a question in them, one eyebrow cocked up toward his hairline.

 

Oh, right. Staring.

 

Right away Louis clears his throat, picking up one of the water bottles nestled in the bag next to him, tossing it to the lad.

 

The boy catches it easily, smirking cheekily at Louis as he unscrews the cap and swallows down a few mouthfuls of water.

 

God have mercy.

 

His throat was just as lovely as the rest of him, stretching down to two defined collarbones, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.

 

Louis is staring. Again. He’s pulled out of his head by a voice that seems to be directed at him.

 

Oh.

 

“Enjoying the view?” the sweaty boy asks shakily, still catching his breathe. Wow, he really needs to stop panting before Louis rips his shirt off and –

 

“Just wondering why anyone in their right mind would be out in shorts right now running laps through the fog. My butt’s freezing just sitting here mate.” Louis rubs his hands together to warm them up a bit, shoving them under his thighs.

 

“Hmm” the boy hums as he makes his way over to his bag on the other side of Louis. He rifles through it, searching for something at the bottom before pulling out a small white towel. He proceeds to wipe the sweat off his face and neck, leaving Louis staring. Again.

 

“And I’m just wondering why anyone in their right mind would want to watch someone in shorts run laps through the fog in this weather,” the boy finally replies.

 

Shoving a hand through his hair, he pulls the headband off his head, letting his curls fall all over the place. He quickly shakes his hair out, pushing it away from his face before turning to Louis, an unspoken question hanging in the air.

 

“Right. Well I was just on my way to school when I saw someone who was obviously mad and thought I’d help sort them out, y’know, remind them it’s October and that there’s frost on the grass.” Louis has no idea how he’s speaking right now with the boy’s eyes roaming his face, seemingly picking him apart right in front of him.

 

The curly haired boy hums again before cracking a smile, looking down at his feet.

 

Oh god, he has dimples too. Why _why_ was this happening right now of all times.

 

“You go to school here then?” he asks quietly, sitting down lightly on the other side of his bag, bringing his eyes back to meet Louis’.

 

“Yeah, s’my last year.” Louis says nodding, mumbling a “thank god” under his breathe.

 

The boy chuckles, once again showing his dimples. He brings a hand up to his face, scratching along his jaw, pursing his lips.

 

“Not a fan, I guess?”

 

“Of school? Nah, s’just not for me,” Louis shoots back, looking across the field in front of them. He feels the boy’s eyes on the side of his face, waiting for him to continue. “Don’t really know where I’m going next year so this all seems kind of useless, y’know?” He brings his eyes back to meet the boy’s beside him. Nodding slowly, the tall boy narrows his eyes a bit as if trying to figure something out.

 

“What did you say your name was again?” he asks, cocking his head.

 

Louis huffs a laugh, “I didn’t. It’s Louis. Louis Tomlinson.”

 

The boy’s eyes suddenly light up, a smile stretching across his face.

 

“You wouldn’t happen to be related to a certain pair of Tomlinson twins would you?” he asks, his voice sounding more awake.

 

Louis feels his lips tugging back up in a slow smile, his eyes narrowing in question.

 

“Daisy and Phoebe?”

 

The boy nods quickly, turning on the bench to face Louis.

 

“I’m Harry. Styles. I was one of their counselors at day camp this summer.”

 

Letting the smile take over his face, Louis turns toward the boy – Harry – as well, suddenly feeling more comfortable now that they have this small connection.

 

“Were you the one who threw Daisy in the lake and then let her bury you in the sand afterward?” Louis asks, staring into the other boy’s eyes.

 

A laugh bursts out of Harry mouth, startling Louis slightly, being the first loud noise of the morning.

 

“Yeah, that was me. They’re so crazy, but so much fun too. My favourite twins of the summer for sure.” Harry grins over the bag between them.

 

After staring at each other for a few seconds smiling in silence, both boys seem to remember where they are. Louis blinks twice, looking back at the school behind him. His butt is absolutely frozen, fingers tingling where they’re now wrapped over his knees.

 

When he looks back over at Harry, the other boy is already pulling a dark grey jumper over his head, messing his curls up over his face again. Louis wants to run his fingers through the sweaty strands, maybe even wash them for him; scratch his fingers over his scalp. He’s been told he’s quite the masseuse. Maybe he should offer up his services. Maybe they could trade massages, see if Harry’s as good with his hands as he is with his legs.

 

Ok, ok no. Harry is still sitting there messing with his hair; Louis can fantasize later.

 

Interrupting his thoughts, Harry stands up, brushing the dew off his backside. “Well, I better go. Gotta shower before I start the day.” He tosses his stuff into the duffel bag, zipping it up before throwing it over his right shoulder.

 

“It was nice to finally meet you Louis. The twins told me plenty about you over the summer, so it’s nice to put a face to the name.” Harry smiles widely one last time at the other boy before striding across the field away from the school.

 

Sighing deeply, Louis finally stands up, stretching his legs that have gone stiff from sitting on the cold metal bench. Grabbing his bag, he heads back toward the side doors of the school. The parking lot is now about half full of cars, students making their way toward the building to get in from the cold.

 

Checking his phone, Louis realizes he now only has 20 minutes to finish and print his paper before class.

 

He’s been a good student so far this semester. He’s allowed to slip up like, once, right?

 

Right.

 

\---

 

“Mashed potatoes. That’s what the site says. _Mashed potatoes_. Do these look like mashed potatoes to you Liam? Do they? Are potatoes made of powder in England now? Did I miss a memo or something?”

 

“Calm down, Niall. It’s the same mashed potatoes we have every Thursday; you’d think you’d get over it by now.” Zayn grumbles, moving the peas around on his plate, never bringing the fork anywhere near his mouth.

 

“Sorry for wanting some edible food, Malik. Not all of us can live of leftover take away and a pack of cigarettes a day.” The blonde boy shot back before taking a bite of the hated mashed potatoes. Louis has to admit they do look pretty gross. He prefers to stick to the salad bar, waiting until after school when he and the boys normally go into town to truly fill his stomach. Niall, however, can’t wait that long without complaining his stomach is eating itself, so sticks to whining about the cafeteria food instead.

 

“Not a pack a day, Niall, geez.” Zayn breathes before getting up to refill his cup of water.

 

The table is quiet once he leaves; Niall busy eating while Liam reads the chapter of _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ that’s due that afternoon in English.

Louis clears his throat awkwardly, trying to relieve some of the tension he feels at the table. It’s not that things are weird between the three of them; it’s just that it isn’t the same as it was at the end of May. This time last year, Niall had been spitting mashed potatoes all over the table at a story Louis told and the faces Zayn and Liam pulled in reaction to it. It was normal for them to be the loudest table in the whole cafeteria.

 

But now, this silence and only speaking when Zayn was around, and then rarely directly to Louis, was getting tiring. He hadn’t thought that the lack of contact over the summer had meant that much to the boys, but maybe it had. Maybe all they really want was a formal apology.

 

“Listen, lads –”

 

Before Louis can finish his thought, a tray slammed down onto the table next to him, almost knocking over his water. He doesn’t have to look up to know who it is.

 

“Louis.”

 

The boy slowly turns to look into the brown eyes seated next to him.

 

“Eleanor. Always a pleasure. What can I do for you?” Louis smiles the best he can without grimacing at the girl in front of him. Another resolution for the new school year had been to be nice, even with people he can’t stand. Civil is his new middle name.

 

“Well, Louis, as I’m sure you know Mr. Renfield assigned us as partners for the Religion project –”

 

“Yes, Eleanor, I’m well aware of that. I _was_ in class last week –”

 

“- so you should also know that it’s due in _less_ than a week and, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but, we’ve yet to start it.” The brunette stares unforgivingly at the boy in front of her.

 

When Mr. Renfield had first put Louis with Eleanor, he had only thought good things. She was a new student and maybe he could show her the ropes a bit, make her feel more comfortable at a new school. As a senior that was kind of his job for everyone.

 

Looking back, he wants to slap himself. It’s always the quiet and beautiful one’s you have to be careful of.

 

“Listen, El.”

 

“Eleanor.”

 

Sighing, Louis turns to face her completely, “Eleanor. We can meet up tomorrow after school, then have the weekend to work on it and have it done by class on Tuesday. Does that work for you?”

 

She continues to glare at him, but her shoulders seem less tense after Louis made it clear he has a plan.

 

“Fine. I’ll text you when we can meet up. And this time, Louis, answer on the same day, got it?” Eleanor spits before storming off back to her own table.

 

Louis hears a low whistle come from behind him, turning fully in his seat to see the other boys smirking, Zayn sitting back down on the bench.

 

“What?”

 

Zayn is the first to break, his laughter coming out as snorts, a sound he’ll never admit to making.

 

“She’s worse than your mum, mate!” his friend chortles as the two boys across the table lose the battle of holding in their laughter. Soon all of them are laughing loudly, even Louis can’t hold back his smile as he watches them let go. It feels like the first time since before the summer holidays that they’re acting like their normal selves again.

 

As their laughter dies down, Niall finally focuses his attention on Louis, smirking over the table at him.

 

“She so wants you, Tommo.”

 

Louis’ so distracted by the familiar nickname and the feeling in his chest at hearing it again that he doesn’t realize what Niall said until a few seconds later.

 

“Wait – wait what? Eleanor? Me? No no no, she really doesn’t.” If there was one thing Louis was sure of right now it was that Eleanor hates him with a passion hot enough to burn all of England.

 

“I wouldn’t be so quick to deny it, Louis. That was sexual tension if I ever felt it.” Liam finally speaks up, giving up on his attempt at finishing the reading and closing the novella.

 

“Then you’ve definitely never felt sexual tension, Payne, because that sure as hell wasn’t it.” Louis sighs, rearranging the objects on his tray, “And even if it was, it’s not like anything would ever happen between us. Not in a million years. Ever.”

 

He feels all three boys smiling at him, Niall and Liam teasingly, Zayn more in understanding.

 

He had never really come out to Zayn, having his friend find out in a more informal way. The most informal if Louis could say so.

 

They had been in Paris early on in the summer and had stumbled upon a group of fellow Brits who were climbing the Eifel Tower at the same day they were. After hanging out for an afternoon, they invited Zayn and Louis to go for some drinks with them at a nearby bar. Louis had hit if off with one of them, having the same sense of humour and love for football. At the end of the night, when the Louis and Zayn were ready to head back to their hostel, the boy, Simon, had pulled him aside, asking him to come back to his hotel room with him. And although Louis really wanted to, having grown quite comfortable with Simon through the course of the day, not to mention a shag on the first night of their European adventure was like christening the trip with greatness (also Simon’s hands looked like they could do some seriously beautiful damage to Louis’ smaller body and he was not about to pass up the opportunity to see that), Zayn was watching and Louis had yet to tell him he gave up on women years ago. Little did he know, he wasn’t very good at lying. When Louis had come back to the table saying he was ready to go, Zayn stared at him incredulously and said, “Just go on, mate. Be safe and I’ll see you in the morning yeah?” and that was that.

 

Zayn being the only person who knew besides his family was both a curse and a blessing. Right now, however, it feels like the former.

 

“I’m serious. I don’t see her that way.” Louis persists. This is his last year in high school and he is not going to have his friends snickering about how much Eleanor “wants him” when he could be focusing on school work. And stuff.

 

Thinking about focusing on schoolwork has Louis’ minding wandering off to that morning on the bleachers with Harry. With that thought, the boy stretches his neck over the tops of his classmates’ heads, searching to see if he can spot the curly haired boy somewhere in the cafeteria. After a minute of hovering awkwardly in his seat, Louis gives up and sits back down.

 

“Looking for someone?”

 

He turns to face Zayn who had whispered the question at him, quiet enough for only him to hear. Louis wonders if he should tell Zayn about the boy; ask if maybe he knows him. For some reason, he thinks it’d be best if he keeps the boy a secret from his friend, at least for now. Keep the two separate until he knew who and what was going on.

 

“Nope. You done? Ready to go?” Louis says, picking up his tray, already making his way over to the trash before Zayn was out of his seat.

 

He hadn’t had to reveal his big secret to Zayn before; why can’t he try and keep this one now?

 

\---

 

The next morning Louis got up to the same alarm he’d set for yesterday’s early start. He’s about to roll over and fall back to sleep when his phone vibrates with a text. Grabbing his phone, he sees it’s from Eleanor confirming the time and place they’d be studying. Of course she’d be awake at 6 in the morning.

 

Deciding he could do with another early day, Louis gets up and goes through his normal morning routine: shower, dress, breakfast, head out. When he’s grabbing his thermos of tea, a thought comes to him. Taking a second thermos, he pours the tea inside and, at second thought, adds a bit of sugar to sweeten it.

 

Pulling on his coat, he heads outside with both thermoses, his bag, and Julian Casablancas wailing in his ears.

 

When he gets to the school’s grounds, which are just as dead as the day before, Louis walks right past the side doors, heading straight toward the football field bleachers. As he walks over, he spots the boy jogging around the track, dressed all in black with curls falling onto his face. Sitting down on the lowest bleacher bench, Louis keeps one thermos between his hands, setting the other down next to him.

 

When Harry sees him sitting there, he finishes the lap and jogs over to the bleachers, a smile pulling at his lips.

 

“Morning again.” He huffs once he was in earshot.

 

Louis picks up the second thermos and hands it over to him wordlessly when Harry stops in front of him.

 

“What’s this?” the tall boy questions, taking the warm container into his hands without waiting for an answer, smelling the steam coming out from the top.

 

“Thought you’d need some tea to thaw out your frozen limbs from running in this temperature.” It isn’t any colder than the day before, but the bleachers are cold and damp, seeping through Louis jeans and making him shiver. He takes a sip just as Harry does, both of them sighing contently when the warm liquid hit their tongues.

 

Giggling at their synchrony, Harry sits down on the other side of the big duffel bag on the bench, stretching his legs out before him and setting the tea down between his thighs on the bench, keeping his hands wrapped around the warmth.

 

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to.” He breathes out. Louis turns to face him to make sure he heard him correctly. The tall boy wears a small smile on his lips, eyes shining in the early morning sun the was peaking through the clouds.

 

“It’s my pleasure” Louis breathes back. He looks back across the field trying to stare through the fog, letting his mind wander once again. He takes a deep breath, blowing it out between pursed lips, watching it swirl and disappear in this air. “Why do you run outside so early when it’s so cold?” he lets his gaze flit back to Harry’s face, seeing his expression hadn’t changed.

 

The curly haired boy sighs quietly before answering, “I guess it just keeps me awake. Like when I’m running, especially when it’s cold and I can feel it in my lungs, I can focus on nothing else but what I’m doing right then and there. Keeps me from thinking too much I guess.”

 

Louis hums in understanding, letting his eyes roam over the other boy’s face. He takes in the droplets of sweat sitting on his hairline, a few curls reaching out to touch his cheek and brow bones. Louis remembers looking for Harry yesterday during lunch and is about to ask where he was before remembering that it would probably be slightly creepy to voice that he was looking for a boy who he’d just met that day.

 

Looking down at his feet playing with the frosted grass, he hears a sipping sound next to him, turning to see Harry finish off the thermos of tea in his hands. His cheeks are tinted pink either from the cold or the warm drink. For sure not from the way Louis is staring at him because it is a completely platonic stare. Nothing else.

 

“Well, I better head off. Shower and that.” Harry stands up, stretching his arms up in the air, arching his back and elongating his body.

 

Completely platonic staring. Just a friendly gaze going down his back where the black shirt clings to the sweaty skin; to the back of his knees where the little hairs stand up on end from the cold metal of the bleachers.

 

“Thanks again for the tea. I can get used to this kind of treatment” the curly haired boy winks at Louis as he reaches down to grab his bag. Handing over the now empty thermos, their fingers graze just enough for Harry to feel how cold Louis’ were, his tea sitting forgotten on his other side. “Might wanna reheat that” Harry chuckled, pointing to the still full thermos. “Not the best weather for iced tea.”

 

_Not the best weather to be in shorts either, but who’s complaining._

 

Realizing he hasn’t said anything in a while, Louis smiles widely, verging on grimacing.

 

“Right. Well, you’re welcome for the, uh, the tea. Thought you could use it. Maybe I’ll bring you some joggers too next time.”

 

The smile that stretches across Harry’s face reaches his eyes, deepening the crinkles around them.

 

“Tomorrow then?” he asked hopefully, already backing away from the bleachers. His grin turns into a smirk as he waited for Louis’ answer, already knowing what it would be.

 

“Yeah,” the smaller boy replies breathily. “’Till tomorrow.” He smiles back at Harry as the tall boy turns and walked across the field.

 

Picking up the two thermoses and his bag, Louis heads back toward the school.

 

It already feels like it’s going to be a long day.

 

\---

 

That statement has never been truer. Ever.

 

Louis completely forgot about his study session (he refuses to call it a date because God dammit, Liam, there is no sexual tension) until he gets a text from Eleanor while getting his books for the weekend out of his locker asking him where he is. Followed shortly by another asking him politely to “hurry the fuck up, asshole”.

 

Groaning internally, Louis locks up and heads to the front doors of the school. It’s only 3:30, but Eleanor wants to work for at least 3 hours on the paper and then the boys are coming over for some “catching up” or whatever Niall had called it. Louis guesses that now that things are heading back to normal friend territory, they want to hear all about Europe. And why Louis didn’t send them even one e-mail for the 2 months.

 

Eleanor had asked him (oh so politely) to meet him at the café on the edge of town, a secluded place, which would most likely have no one else in it at this time on a Friday meaning no distractions.

 

As he opens the door to the place, the thick smell of coffee beans and vanilla reaches him, welcoming him in from the sunny yet cool outdoors. Louis spots Eleanor right away as there are only two tables occupied and one is by an elderly woman scribbling on a newspaper, seeming to have given up on the crossword.

 

Louis pulls out the chair across from Eleanor, dropping down into it while taking off his bag and jacket, ready to get to work. Right away, Eleanor starts going on about how they’re going to do this paper and what needs to be done and what he has to do and what references they need and that she needs him to go to the library as soon as it opens tomorrow to go find some academic references and –

 

“Wait. You want me to go to the library tomorrow? It opens at like 7.”

 

“Yes, and you will be the first one in there. The faster we get the information from the sources, the faster we can write the actual paper, and the faster we can finish this and not have to speak to each other.” The brunette huffs, taking a sip of the coffee in front of her.

 

Sighing exasperatedly, Louis lifted himself out of the chair and walks over to the counter to order a drink for himself. If he’s going to have to put up with Eleanor constantly voicing her dislike of him, he is going to need some serious caffeine and possibly a brownie.

 

The barista is a tall lanky boy who looks a little older than Louis with hair covering his forehead and a jaw line that – wow, ok, very nice bone structure. Taking a deep breath to ground himself, Louis checks the guy’s nametag before placing his order.

 

“Matt, I will have a large coffee, one milk no sugar, and one of those double chocolate whatsits. The chocolate brownie with the chocolate stuff on top of it.” Louis points to the glass display beside him, showing the barista which double chocolate whatsit he was referring to, as there are quite a few double chocolate whatsits he could be talking about.

 

The barista – Matt – chuckles, revealing a row of straight teeth as he smirks at Louis across the counter.

 

“One large coffee, one milk no sugar, and a double chocolate fudge brownie for a Mr…?” the tall boy trails off as he looks up from the cash machine he had been punching Louis’ order into. His eyelashes fan out to touch his eyebrows, lips pursing in question. Wow, this is really unfair.

 

“Louis. Well, Tomlinson. Mr. Louis sounds quite weird, doesn’t it? Just, don’t say the Mr. part I think. Louis is fine. Yeah,” the shorter boy rambles on, wringing his hands together in front of him. All the confidence and charm he seems to have had over the summer is probably still in Amsterdam in that hostel room that smelt of cream cheese. Why is he so rambly and nervous around fit boys all of a sudden? What happened?

 

Matt chuckles again, his tongue coming out the wet the corner of his lips. Louis eyes immediately flit down to the boy’s mouth, taking in the lips and freckles covering his sharp jaw; the long throat with a defined Adam’s apple halfway down. Matt seems to notice his roaming stare and stands up straighter, lifting his head to grin at the boy in front of him

 

“Can I get you anything else, Louis?” his voice rumbles in amusement.

 

The other boy smiles back just as widely, cocking his hip out slightly as he rests his elbow down on the counter. He watches the barista’s eyes flit over his back down to his hips before returning to his face. The two stand there smirking at each other before Matt finally breaks the stare with a “I’ll get started on your coffee then”, turning around to do just that. From this angle, Louis can see the boy’s shoulder blades through his shirt, the white uniform hanging of his frame. He wonders how his back muscles would move under his hands, if they’d be hard or easy to grab onto when underneath the taller boy, while being pounded–

 

“Louis?”

 

The boy turns around quickly, nearly losing his balance as he registers where he is and who was calling him. Eleanor sits turned around in her seat, staring at him impatiently, pointing at her wrist where a watch would sit if she wore one.

 

Right, they have a paper to do.

 

Turning back around to face the barista, he sees Matt was already watching him with a small smile set on his lips.

 

“You can go and sit. I’ll bring over your stuff when it’s ready.”

 

Louis shoots him back a wink before heading back to his table with Eleanor. Looking up at the clock on the wall, he shuts his eyes and sighs. It was only 4, leaving them another 2 hours or so in this café with Matt the impossibly attractive barista sending him smirks and winks every time he looks up from his laptop.

 

Longest. Day. Ever.

 

\---

 

Hearing the familiar double knocks on the front door, Louis calls out for the boys to come in and lock the door behind them. He has just got off the phone with Domino’s and their two large peperoni pizzas should be arriving shortly.

 

The sounds of laughter and most likely slaps to jacketed arms make their way to the living room in the back of the house where he sits. Louis greets the three boys by tossing a game controller to each of them and moving over to make room for them all to fit on the couch. Once they’re all squished together, shouting and shoving raucously, it’s easy to forget the underlying tension that’s been hanging over them for the past month. It’s only after they’ve all sat down on the floor with their pizza slices that a heavy silence hangs over them

 

Shoving half his slice in his mouth to make sure he can’t speak, Louis keeps his eyes on the wall, looking at the baby picture’s hung up of him and his sisters. After a few minutes of quiet eating, it seems that Niall has had enough.

 

“Ok this awkward silence shit is stupid and fucked up. What the hell is going on man?”

 

Looking back to the boys, Louis realizes all of their gazes were on him – Niall’s impatient while Liam and Zayn’s just seem curious.

 

“Why are you all looking at me for?” the eldest boy shoots back. Of course he knows why they’re all looking at him, but hell no is he going to admit he’s wrong and apologize for not keeping in touch every second of their trip like Zayn had. It’s not his fault he had been busy with different cultures and people and stuff.

 

“Don’t you pull that fucking innocent face at me, mate. We’re talking now, so let’s talk. Why is this awkward?” the Irishman asks angrily, dropping his pizza back into the box. Liam keeps his eyes on a spot on the floor, letting Niall take control of the conversation.

 

Putting his slice down as well, Louis wipes his hands on his jeans, making a mental note to wash them sometime before Monday. He looks over at Zayn for support, but he’s busy watching Liam trace patterns into the carpet.

 

Sighing deeply, Louis looks over at Niall.

 

“It’s not awkward, ok. It’s just silence. We can have that sometimes, yeah?” he knows he should address the problem right away, but, God, he hates admitting he’s wrong and until it’s spelt out for him, he’s not going to lay his faults out on the table.

 

Groaning exasperatedly, Niall shuffles in his seat on the floor to face Louis before laying it on him, “It is fucking awkward, you twat. You didn’t talk to me or Liam all summer and then you came back from your adventures telling us all about how great they were and how much fun you had, not even asking how our summer’s were. No “happy belated birthday, guys”, no “how’s the fam?” or “how’re you guys doing?” or anything. You just came back and acted like we’ve been in contact all summer when we hadn’t heard from you since June, Louis. Zayn at least had the decency of sending us some pictures whenever he could and a Skype call on our birthdays. We got _nothing_ from you, mate.”

 

Louis shifts uncomfortably, not feeling any better now that it’s all out in the open. Zayn and Liam stay quiet as Niall catches his breathe after his rant, still boring holes into the older boy’s face. It almost feels worse now that it’s all out like this. Having Niall spell it out for him straight makes it all seem worse than he thought it was. He didn’t know they cared that much.

 

“I’m sorry.” Louis whispers almost inaudibly. Liam lifts his head up slightly to let Louis meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again. Looking back at Niall, Louis sees the boy’s face smooth out a bit more, eyebrows unfurrowing.

 

“I’m really sorry I didn’t wish you guys a happy birthday and I’m so sorry I made you think I didn’t care how you guys were once we got back. I didn’t know it bothered you so much not hearing from me. I was a right shit and a terrible friend and I’m sorry.” He makes eye contact with all three boys before sighing and closing them. He counts to fifteen before opening them again and seeing the three of them still watching him.

 

Turning to his right, he puts a hand on Liam’s knee and watches the boy furrow his brows in question. Louis stares into the brown eyes he’s yet to see light up fully in weeks. “I’m sorry, Li. Happy late birthday and sorry for being a prat.” The brown eyes twitch slightly, as if not sure which emotion to show, before settling on a twinkle that spreads across his whole face in a smile. Before he knows it, Louis’ wrapped up in the boy’s arms, being squeezed into a bear hug.

 

“That’s all I wanted, Lou,” Liam whispers into the other boy’s neck. He holds on for a few more seconds before moving back and smiling at the boy in front of him. He cocks his head to the side, indicating toward Niall who’s sat to his right, across from Louis.

 

The older boy crawls across the floor until he’s practically sitting in Niall’s lap who’s already trying not to smile. Grabbing both sides of his face, Louis presses his forehead to Niall’s, keeping eye contact the entire time.

 

“I’m sorry, Niall. I’m a twat and an arse and worse than a flea on a rat and I’m sorry. I wish I had been a better friend before and I’ll try to be now if you’ll have me. Also, happy late birthday. You probably had a sick party and I’d know if I had asked you but I didn’t because I suck.” Niall finally loses and a grin breaks out across his face as he smacks a kiss on Louis cheek.

 

“I forgive you, you fucker. Just don’t do it the next time you go off somewhere, ok? We miss you and stuff.” The blonde shuffles his legs out from under Louis to reach around him and grab his half eaten pizza slice again, shoving the rest of it in his mouth.

 

Feeling slightly lighter, Louis gets up and makes his way back to his spot on the floor. He feels like he needs to say something to Zayn who’s remained quiet through this whole thing, but has a smile playing at his lips. The older boy reaches over to poke his cheek with his index finger, Zayn turning to try and bite it.

 

“I’m sorry if I was a prat at all during our trip. I didn’t realize I was being a shitty friend, so sorry if I was to you too.” Poking the boy’s cheek once more, Louis settles down with his back against the couch, grabbing his pizza slice.

 

“Now that that’s over with, can we talk about the lack of parties this semester? I mean I haven’t been proper drunk since my birthday and that’s almost two months ago!” Niall raved on, spitting out pieces of pizza and he talks with a full mouth.

Liam cringes before shooting back, “What are you talking about ‘proper drunk’? You drunk dialed me just last week going on about Ms. Stevens and her tight dresses.”

 

They all laugh loudly as Niall tries to correct Liam that no actually, it was Mrs. Steven _son_ , the married chemistry teacher, who he had been drunkenly raving on about and that was because she had asked Niall to babysit her son who was the biggest brat in the country. 

As the conversation continues, Louis feels a hand wrap around his left foot, squeezing lightly. He looks up to see Zayn’s face still on the other two boys, his teeth biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing, right hand patting the top of Louis’ foot before letting go.

 

\---

 

Waking up at 6:30 on a dark and cold Saturday morning is worse than Louis could have ever imagined. As soon as this paper is written and handed in, he is going to stay far away from Eleanor and her fascist ways. He _hates_ group work enough to begin with and having _her_ as a partner is enough to push him over the edge. He has to keep reminding himself of his new school-year resolution to be more studious and all that to keep him from sleeping in.

 

Once he gets to the library, he sighs internally, seeing that he _is_ in fact the first person here, all the other students deciding to put homework off to later that day or until Sunday night.

 

He makes his way over to the tables in the back corner of the library, setting his bag and coat down before walking over to the rows of books forming a maze throughout the room. Eleanor gave him a sheet of paper with the names of some author’s they could use as references. He pulls the paper out of his back pocket and starts down the aisle.

 

Twenty minutes later, Louis has two books under his right arm and is trying to reach up with his left to get to the last book on the list. Damn his short arms and stumpy legs; he’s just a few inches too short to reach the book. Putting the other two down, he stretches back up, leaning on the shelf to get some leverage to reach higher. He touches the spine with the tips of his fingers, scratching it in an attempt to get it closer to the edge of the shelf. This, of course, only leads to him pushing the book further away from his grasp.

 

Groaning loudly, Louis drops back down on his feet and stares angrily at the book as if it’d fall from the shelf in submission. He looks down the aisle for any sort of step or ladder that could help him reach the higher shelf. As he turns around, he meets a pair of green eyes through the shelf behind him. As soon as the eyes realize they’ve been caught, they immediately disappear. Louis walks up to the shelf and tries peering through the crack, moving some books around to see better. He hears humming coming from the other side and sees a figure turning to corner of the aisle, further away from him into the library.

 

Creep. The fact that there is supposedly no one else in the library makes Louis all the more nervous that someone is watching him. Deciding to forget the book, he starts off down the aisle toward where the humming can still be heard. He ends up in the kid’s section, feeling rather big among the little plastic chairs and tables. Which is ironic as just a minute ago he was unable to reach a book on a shelf in the adult section. Which he is. An adult.

 

The only other figure in the room is standing near the window, looking down at an open copy of Robert Munsch’s “Stephanie's Ponytail”, his long fingers turning the pages as he bites his lip nervously.

 

“I read this to your sisters all the time at camp.” Harry says loud enough for Louis to hear at the opposite end of the small room, closing the book and showing the cover to the other boy.

 

Louis slowly walks toward him, eyes searching the taller boy’s face. Harry seems to be avoiding his gaze, favouring the cuticles on his left hand instead.

 

“Were you watching me? Before?” Louis asks, as he gets closer to the boy. Harry’s eyes finally meet his, dimples popping out as he suppresses a grin.

 

“Maybe.”

 

Louis narrows his eyes, coming to a stop in front of the curly haired boy. This is the first time he sees him in anything other than the all-black running outfit he wears every morning. The tall boy is now dressed in a red knit jumper leading down to a pair of tight black jeans and worn out brown boots on his pigeon toed feet. Louis thinks Harry looks rather endearing with his casual attire and shy smile, hair curling around in tufts on top of his head. Seeing them looking all soft and dry, Louis resists the urge to play with the boy’s curls, choosing instead to sit on the windowsill, hands under his thighs.

 

“And you didn’t think that your height would have been of any assistance to me?” the smaller boy smirks, lifting one eyebrow in the direction of the other boy.

 

Harry finally smiles widely, setting the children’s book down beside Louis. He resumes staring out of the window, fingers still playing with each other in front of him. Louis wants to reach out and grab them, have _him_ play with the long fingers instead.

 

Looking back up to Harry’s face, Louis breaks the silence, “Not running today then?”

 

The tall boy turns to meet his eyes, smile still on his lips. “Nope. S’my day off.” His eyes roam over the smaller boys body, taking in the soft black t-shirt and grey joggers. Louis’ hair is sitting on his forehead today, beanie left at home and styling gel hidden away in the bathroom. He tries to remember the last time he’s gotten a haircut and is at a loss. It _has_ gotten quite long, now that he thinks about it, playing with the hairs at the back of his head.

 

“I thought you’d be sleeping in? It being Saturday and all,” Harry asks curiously. “Or have you not gone bed yet?” a sly grin stretches across his lips

 

“Ha ha. I went to bed at eleven last night actually, thank you very much. Which now that I think about it isn’t something to be proud of for a Friday night.”

 

Harry lets out a bark of laughter before covering his mouth with one hand, leaving the library quiet once again. Hearing Harry’s laugh has let a smile spread across Louis’ face and a slight heat rise up to his cheeks. One that he can’t now blame on hot tea or the wind. Damn.

 

“I had to pick up some books for a paper I’m writing. One of which is placed on a shelf that only ogres are able to reach.” Louis cocks his head in accusation, an unimpressed lilt to his lips.

 

“An ogre eh?” Harry chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

 

“An angel,” Louis corrects himself, turning fully to face Harry now. “An absolute angel who could fly up and grab that terrible book for my tiny little self.” He grins widely, baring all of his teeth at the boy in front of him. Harry rolls his eyes before heading off in the direction of the aisle Louis was in before.

 

Hopping off the windowsill, he follows Harry down the rows before taking the lead and showing him which book he needs. It’s on a shelf so high up that even Harry has to get onto his toes to reach it, but easily grabs it from there.

 

He hands it over to Louis, who smiles in gratitude before picking up the two other books he left on the floor. Once they’re both standing facing each other, Harry leans forward slightly and turns his head to the right, tapping his left cheek twice with his finger.

 

Louis sucks in a breath, furrowing his eyebrows in question, “What, you want me to kiss you thanks?”

 

Harry pouts, tapping his cheek again before mumbling, “Taxes.”

 

Louis lets out a laugh that’s more of a breath than anything else. Biting his lip, he leans in until he’s just an inch away from Harry’s cheek. Up close he can see the little hairs on the boy’s face, not nearly long or dark enough to form a beard. They’re more like little baby hairs protecting the soft skin underneath. Breathing in the smell of books and boy, Louis leans in the extra inch and presses his lips to Harry’s cheek. It only lasts half a second, but Louis’ swears he felt heat rising to the surface of the other boy’s skin.

 

Leaning back, he can see that Harry does in fact have a light blush spreading across his cheeks. Clearing his throat, Louis excuses himself to go check out the books.

 

As he was about to turn to corner at the end of the aisle, he turns back to find Harry standing in the same spot, his hand stroking the freshly kissed cheek. Seeing Louis top at the end of the aisle, he looks up with a question on his face.

 

Licking his lips, Louis calls out quietly, “Watch all you want, Styles, but you only get kisses when you help me.”

 

Watching the boy’s blush turn a darker shade of adorable, Louis turns away, forcing himself to walk to the front desk and not back to where Harry is still standing, unable to keep the smile from his pink lips.

 

\---

 

Sunday comes and goes, the Religion paper more than half done, and an agreement to meet up with Eleanor at that same café Monday after school is made.

 

Like he’s been doing it for years, Louis pours some tea into two thermoses and leaves the house early once again, calling out goodbyes to his mum and sisters. They’re forecasting warmer weather this week, but Louis can still see his breath, so he’s thankful for the beanie and scarf keeping him warm.

 

As he nears the bleachers next to the football field, he can’t help but smile at the sight of Harry jogging around the track in that same black outfit from the week before.

 

Putting the thermoses down on the bench, he drops his bag next to Harry’s larger one and makes himself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he can on the cold metal.

 

After a few moments, Harry spots him and jogs over with a smile on his face. As he nears, Louis picks up one of the thermoses and hands it over to the boy.

 

“Hey, Louis.” Harry smiles before taking a sip of the still warm tea. Right away he pulls back and grimaces, “Eugh, that’s so bitter!” Louis starts to giggle, taking the thermos back and switching it with the other one.

 

“Sorry, that one’s mine. Yours has sugar in it.”

 

Harry takes a cautious sip before swallowing, sighing as the tea warms his insides. As he comes around Louis, Harry takes their bags off the bench, placing them down on the ground so he can sit in their place. Now sitting only a few inches away, Louis can hear him panting and can see the thin layer of sweat on the boy’s skin. His mouth watering, Louis quickly takes a sip of his “bitter” tea before looking across the field into the fog.

 

“I don’t know how you can drink that stuff. The more sugar the better to be honest.” Harry muses as he caught his breath.

 

“Ugh, no. Any sweetener completely ruins the tea for me. The bitter aftertaste is the best part.”

 

Tuning to stare incredulously at Louis, Harry scoffs, shaking his head, “Right tea connoisseur you are.”

 

Lips turning up into a small smile, Louis nudges Harry’s shoulder with his own, falling into a comfortable silence.

 

“So you never did tell me why you were in the kid’s section of the library on Saturday.”

 

Harry lets out a loud laugh, not bothering to cover his mouth this time, as they are the only two around. “I, um, I work at a daycare in town part time during the week, so I had to pick up new reading material.”

 

Louis turns to stare at the boy next to him. He himself was only 17 years old and he guesses Harry to be around the same age. But he works at a daycare?

 

“Wait, do you go to school here?” the smaller boy asks. Harry turns to him with a smile, curious eyes running over Louis’ face.

 

“No. You haven’t noticed? You’re in your last year right?”

 

Louis nods watching the boy in front of him attentively. “Like, I looked for you in the cafeteria last Thursday, but I just thought I couldn’t see you.”

 

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause I wasn’t there.” Harry huffs out a laugh, dimples on full display around a smile.

 

“So where do you go?” the other boy asks inquisitively.

 

“Northern College. It’s, uh, on the other side of town.” Harry says almost shyly, looking down at his shoes.

 

“They don’t have a track at Northern?”

 

“No.”

 

Louis decides to leave it at that, Harry’s response enough for him to see he didn’t want to talk about his school very much. Northern was the Adult Education Center in the poorer part of town. Everything starts to make a bit more sense to Louis now: the early morning jogs, leaving right away to shower before classes start at Northern.

 

“So you work at the daycare after school?”

 

Harry, who’s been playing with the dirt under the bleachers, looks up at Louis, glad for the change in topic.

 

“Yeah. I made sure to not have classes in the afternoons so I can go and work for a few hours a day.”

 

“You like it then?” Louis loves kids, don’t get him wrong, but waking up before 7 was hard enough when all he did for the rest of the day was sit in class. To get up before 7, jog through fog and frost, then go to classes, _then_ spend the rest of the day with a bunch of crazy kids sounds like nothing Louis would ever agree to. You’d have to pay him like so much money. Or buy him a ton of Vans. And skittles.

 

A smile breaks out across Harry’s face, lighting it up to all its corners. “Yeah,” he breathes softly, “I really do. Being around kids has always made me feel better for some reason. And running.” The boy lets out a laugh, picking up the thermos before him. “I’m kind of new to town though, so the track is a good way not to get lost.” His eyes meet Louis as he takes a sip of his now cooling tea.

 

Louis has so many questions. How old are you? New to town? Why are you at Northern? How do your lips do that thing when you talk that makes me want to bite them until they bleed??

 

Instead of holding the Spanish Inquisition on the school yard, Louis decides to hold back for now. If these morning meetings were going to become a regular thing (if they aren’t already), then there will be plenty of time to get answers. Even to the lips question.

 

Nodding in understanding, Louis keeps his mouth shut, choosing to take a sip of his own tea instead. They sit like that for a while, both drinking their teas, until Harry starts to shiver. Having cooled off, the cool breeze on his sweaty skin sends goose bumps along his arms. The boy reaches down to grab the bottom hem of his shirt before pulling the thing off, quickly shoving it into his duffel bag. Louis’ eyes just about bulge out of their sockets, throat closing up around the tea he’s trying to swallow causing him to hack out a cough. Harry pulls a hoodie out of his bag, pulling it on to cover up with bare chest. Within seconds, it’s all over. Louis, however, is still choking on tea and saliva and because bare chest and hard nipples.

 

“Lou you okay?” Harry asks, reaching out to pat the boy’s back. The concerned tone of voice mixed with the nickname and the warm hand rubbing down his back has Louis just about falling off the bench and humping the ground.

 

As he regains his breath, Louis shoots his hand out in a thumbs up, hoping to reassure Harry without having to open his mouth in fear of coughing up another lung. The curly haired boy pats his back one more time before retracting his hand and draining the last of the tea in his thermos.

 

Once Louis feels like he isn’t going to die, he turns to see Harry smiling at his feet shyly.

 

“What are you smiling for? My near death experience light up your morning?” Louis sniffs, turning to look at Harry fully. The boy’s smile widens and Louis is about to ask him what his problem was when he mumbles almost inaudibly, “I helped you just now didn’t I?”

 

Confused, Louis draws his eyebrows together, leaning over to try and catch Harry’s eye. What the hell is he talking about?

 

“Yes, I guess you did. What, you want a medal?” Louis teases, brushing off some imaginary lint from Harry’s shoulder. The hoodie feels soft and warm under his fingers so he rests his hand on the boy’s arm, squeezing lightly.

 

Harry lifts his head finally, turning it to look Louis in the eye.

 

“No, a kiss would be nice though.”

 

Louis almost breaks out into another coughing fit in surprise at how bluntly Harry puts it.

 

 _A kiss would be nice though_. Yeah of course a kiss would be nice, me too mate.

 

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Louis rakes his eyes over Harry’s face, the sweaty sheen gone, replaced now by a hopeful smirk and light blush on his cheeks. Louis doubts it’s from the cold this time.

 

“Taxes?” Louis asks teasingly, bringing his hand back up to the other boy’s shoulder. Harry’s smile widens, a flash of white teeth peaking through his pink lips. That he’s now licking. With his tongue. Oh god.

 

With his eyes on Louis’ lips, Harry turns to the left, adjusting his body to face the boy beside him. Once he’s comfortable, he reaches a hand out, stroking Louis’ left cheek with the back of his fingers. The smaller boy feels a shiver run through him as he leans forward, using the hand on Harry’s shoulder to pull him closer as well. Once there’s but an inch between their noses, Louis breathes in his scent, a musky mix of sweat and boy. With anyone else, Louis would probably wrinkle his nose in disgust, but it’s _Harry_ and his nose is brushing against the tip of Louis’ and oh my god oh my GOD.

 

Moving that extra inch forward, Louis breathes out against Harry’s lips, this time feeling the shiver run through him where his hand meets the boy’s hoodie-covered shoulder. Too close to focus, Louis shuts his eyes and nudges his nose forward to press into Harry’s.

 

It seems like an eternity goes by, neither moving, just breathing into each other’s mouths, sharing body heat. Harry’s right hand is now curled around the back of Louis’ neck, thumb stroking his earlobe; Louis’ hand gripping tightly to Harry’s hoodie at his right shoulder.

 

Just when he thinks it’s all too much and his cheeks are about to explode, Louis feels Harry push forward and slot their lips together. He can’t breathe, can’t hear anything, can’t see anything but the back of his eyelids. All he can feel is Harry, on his lips, on his neck, his left hand reaching down to grab the side of his coat as if he needs to stabilize himself. He pulls back after a few seconds, but keeps their noses brushing, both boys breathing heavily into each other’s mouths.

 

Opening his eyes, Louis looks up to see Harry’s are still closed, his eyelashes fanning out against his cheekbones, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Louis wants to lean up and kiss the boy’s eyelids, brush his lips between the brows to smooth them out.

 

Dropping his hand from Harry’s shoulder, Louis pulls back from the embrace. Once the other boy drops his hands and opens his eyes, it’s like Louis is suddenly coming up from being underwater. He can hear the sounds of students yelling and talking, a car horn going off in the parking lot, and above all the sound, the school bell announcing the start of the day.

 

Louis sees Harry packing his bag up, getting ready to go. The smaller boy grabs both of the now empty thermoses and shoves them in his bag, throwing it over his back before standing up.

 

When they’re both standing up, bags on their backs, ready to go, they finally meet each others eyes. They’re both still out of breath, rosy tints to both of their cheeks. At once they both start to laugh, unable to hold it in. Harry runs a hand through his hair, standing up straight and checking his watch.

 

“I’m gonna be late for class.” He mumbles, bringing his eyes back to Louis’.

 

“Yeah,” the other boy breathes, “Um, me too.”

 

Harry smirks at the flustered mess before him, eyes searching his face. Leaning forward, he presses his lips to Louis’ warm cheek for a few seconds before backing away toward the track.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow..?” he asks hopefully, raising both eyebrows to his hairline.

 

Louis swallows thickly, his eyes following the boy that’s moving further and further away from him.

 

“Mhm,” he hums in response, “Yeah, tomorrow.”

 

Smiling one last time, Harry turns around and starts to jog across the field away from Louis.

 

Letting out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, Louis turns his back on the boy, walking toward the school where only the stragglers are still outside. Among them is Zayn who’s finishing off his cigarette as Louis reached the top of the steps. They nod at each other, the younger boy stubbing out his cigarette before joining Louis at the door.

 

As they walk in together, Zayn whispers quiet enough for only Louis to hear, “So who’s the boy?”

 

Groaning out loud, Louis rolls his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.

 

At least it’s better than being teased about the “sexual tension” between him and Eleanor.

 

\---

 

“And… we’re done!”

 

Eleanor huffs out a sigh, collapsing onto the table. Louis smiles (he actually smiles) and closes the laptop in front of him, making sure to save the document first. They’ve finished their Religion paper and the sun is still out. It’s a miracle.

 

Louis leans back in his chair, taking his almost empty mug of coffee with him. It’s been 4 grueling hours, but they’ve finally finished. Knocking bag the dregs in his mug, Louis can already see Matt making his way over with a pot of fresh coffee, ready to refill the now empty mug.

 

“Mate, if I drink anymore of this I’ll never sleep tonight.” Louis laughs, covering the top of his mug with his hand to keep Matt from refilling it.

 

“How do you know that’s not what I’m going for?”

 

The barista winks, refilling Eleanor’s mug before returning to the front counter. Sighing, Louis let his eyes close, breathing in the smell of fresh coffee coming from Eleanor’s mug. When he opens them again, Eleanor is staring at him with a strange expression, like she’s trying to figure something out.

 

Taking a deep breath, she blurts out, “You are gay right?”

 

Louis’ eyes widens drastically, eyes darting to Matt who is now behind the counter cleaning the machines.

 

Bringing his eyes back to Eleanor, he leans forward so she would hear him.

 

“Yeah, so what?”

 

“So what? So that guy is totally hitting on you and has been since we first came in here. He’s seriously fit, I don’t know what you’re doing.”

 

Louis stares at her disbelievingly, his gaze flitting between her and the boy behind the counter.

 

“What, all the innuendo’s he makes? That’s just banter love.”

 

“Pff, yeah, the kind that comes right before sex. Seriously, Louis, go and relax. You worked hard today, let him take _care_ of you.” Eleanor smirks evilly, packing up her stuff.

 

“Take _care_ of me?” Louis scoffs. “Now who’s throwing the sexual innuendos around, eh?” The brunette just continues to smile, zipping up her bag and throwing her coat on.

 

“I’m just saying, Louis. He obviously likes you and I’m pretty sure you fancy him at least a bit. So do something about it,” she said with finality. “Before somebody else does.”

 

Winking at him one last time, she makes her way to the front of the café, walking out into the darkening evening. The bell above the door signals her exit, so Matt knows she’s gone. But he still keeps his back to Louis, wiping down the counters like they’ve gotten filthy since he last cleaned them an hour ago (Louis has _not_ been watching him what are you talking about).

 

Packing up his stuff, Louis deliberates whether he should go and talk to the guy. He had just kissed Harry that morning, but that’s their thing now, isn’t it? Wasn’t it Louis who said “Watch all you want, but you only get kisses when you help me”? Why did he say that?? Not that he doesn’t want to kiss Harry. Louis can still feel his hand on his own face, fingers lingering on his cheek. Sighing quietly to himself, Louis finishes packing up his stuff. Maybe Eleanor is right; maybe he just needs someone to take care of him, help him relax.

 

With that thought, Louis throws on his coat and bag, walking over to the counter where Matt is now washing his hands in the sink. Not wanting to startle him, Louis clears his throat to get Matt’s attention. Right away, the tall boy’s head snaps up to see Louis standing on the other side of the counter, jacket on. A grin breaks out over the barista’s face, a hopeful glint in his eye.

 

“All done?” he asks, straightening out his spine as he dries off his hands. He throws the towel into the sink, turning the counter lights off.

 

“Yeah, um, I just wanted to say thanks for, y’know, dealing with us and out constant coffee refills.” The laugh that follows sounds stale coming from Louis’ mouth. Why was this so hard?

 

“You heading out? I could give you a ride home if you like?”

 

Louis isn’t looking forward to walking home in the dark and hey this is a nice, attractive, and most likely not criminally insane barista offering him a ride. He is obviously going to say yes.

 

“Uh, no. Thanks. Um… I have to go.”

 

With that, Louis turns around and quickly makes his way out of the café; keeping his eyes on the ground, making sure he doesn’t trip over his own feet. Walking down the sidewalk, he has the sudden urge to be surrounded by warmth, by familiar smells and comfort. Strangely enough, the place that comes to mind isn’t home.

 

The library is quiet as he opens the front door, the squeaking of his shoes the only noise aside from the whirring of the heating. He walks the aisles he had traipsed down two days earlier, heading toward the yellow and blue room in the corner.

 

It’s not like he was expecting to see anywhere here (lies), but Louis can’t help the slight jolt of disappointment in his stomach when the children’s section remains as dead as the rest of the library. Still, the boy sits down on one of the plastic chairs, his butt about four times too big to fit. Although uncomfortable, he feels strangely at home among the crayons and construction paper littering the table before him.

 

Grabbing a purple crayon and a pink sheet of paper, Louis begins to draw. After a few minutes of sketching lines and circles, switching out the purple for brown and green, Louis sits back to admire his masterpiece: a really horrible stick figure with a brown luffa on its head and green dots for eyes. Grumbling to himself, Louis folds the paper in half, hiding it among the other drawings on the table; burying his desperation and patheticness.

 

Getting up, Louis looks around the room, spotting “Stephanie’s Ponytail” still sitting on the same windowsill. He goes over and picks up the book before walking back out to the main room of the library. Without thinking about it too much, he walks over to the front desk and takes out the book for a week.

 

Maybe he’ll read it to the twins tonight.

 

 ---

 

Tuesday morning finds Louis carrying two thermoses to his usual seat on the bleachers, watching as Harry makes his way around the track. There’s a crisp layer of frost covering the grass, a constant reminder that the seasons are changing and the frost will soon turn to snow.

 

Harry finishes the lap he’s on and slows as he reaches Louis, the smaller boy hands over the thermos with sweetened tea in it. As harry grabs the thermos, he leans in to press a short kiss to Louis’ cheek. And though it was a small peck, Louis swore his cheeks reached volcano level of heat.

 

“Morning,” the taller boy smiled, moving his bag to the ground so they could sit next to each other, knees pressed together. Feeling confident, Louis leans in to press a returning kiss to the boy’s left cheek. Instead of leaning back, he starts leaving little kisses all over Harry’s face. Up to his temple, across his brow, down the side of his nose, the corner of his lips, to the edge of his jaw. The entire time, Harry had remained still, eyes closed breathing heavily from his jog.

 

Leaning back so his nose is grazing Harry’s cheek, Louis brings up his left hand, cradling the boy’s other cheek. Feeling warmth on both sides of his face, Harry turns his head to face the boy beside him, noses touching just barely.

 

Eyes on each other’s lips, they meet in the middle in a closed mouth embrace. The warmth between them makes Louis forget that it is 5 degrees out and Harry is probably freezing in shorts and a t-shirt.

 

Pulling back a few inches, eyes finally meeting, the smaller boy smiles softly, taking in the sweaty curls and pink cheeks before him. He runs his fingers through Harry’s hair, taking out the headband and tossing it to the side. The boy cracks a smile, eyes hooded as they watch Louis’ languid movements. He leans back in, noses brushing, lips just a hair away, and whispers softly, “Morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated :) let's me know I'm not complete shit.  
> Don't be too hard on me :))


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